


Haphephobia

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-12
Updated: 2009-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8825347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: HaphephobiaPart of Speech:  NounDefinition:   a fear of being touchedHow far will Jensen go to keep his condition a secret? More over... How did he become this person?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Haphephobia

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

DEDICATION: To S. S. A man that will probably never read this, but as my favorite (English) teacher, and one whom I still talk to even though I graduated ‘07. He always supported my hopes/dreams/need to become an author. So, here’s to you. Hope you’re still writing and inspiring your pupils as I am sure that you are.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Prologue

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

I am not who you think I am. Yes, I am an actor, but the best role I play is the one that everyone sees when the cameras aren’t rolling. 

 

I’ve gotten very good in my opinion. It’s actually gotten to the point that the fear doesn’t show in my eyes anymore, and I don’t physically pull back from people. I can even hug people and lock the fear away until I can break down later in private.

 

Fantastic, right?

 

Yes, I’ve gotten very good at breaking down in private.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Jared froze, head automatically cocked to the side as his hand stilled on the locked door. 

 

“Jay?”

 

Jared pulled his hand back as if it had zapped him, “Sorry.”

 

“No big,” Jensen said, smiling a slow smile. “Bathroom’s down the hall.”

 

“Oh, okay…” Jared said, forcing himself to return the small smile. Then he turned and hurried to the bathroom. He clicked the lock on the door and leaned against it for a moment before shoving off and leaning on the sink, long fingers curling around the porcelain as he stared at himself in the mirror.

 

Why was Jensen’s door locked? As a matter of fact, Jared realized, he’d never seen Jen’s room. Even when Jensen gave him the grand tour he’d just thrown a hand up and pointed vaguely in each directions as he told him where everything was in his loft.

 

Jared bowed his head, gnawing on his lower lip and trying to sort his thoughts out. Was that weird or was he nuts?

 

Who knew anymore…


	2. Chapter One

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Haphephobia

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

DEDICATION: To S. S. A man that will probably never read this, but as my favorite (English) teacher, and one whom I still talk to even though I graduated ‘07. He always supported my hopes/dreams/need to become an author. So, here’s to you. Hope you’re still writing and inspiring your pupils as I am sure that you are.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Chapter One

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

I think he knows. I think he knows that the craziness in my head that I’ve been locking away for years is rearing its ugly head. 

 

Why does he know?

 

More over, why does he care? 

 

No one ever cared, no one else ever bothered to notice.

 

I didn’t notice at first, him noticing. I’ve gotten so good at locking everything away, at hiding it, that it was a huge surprise that someone had noticed. Matter of fact, it took me three years to realize that he’d been noticing for three years.

 

He watches me now, since that night he’s been watching, but only in private, not when anyone else is around.

 

He’s stopped coming to my house, too. He probably doesn’t feel comfortable, knowing that there is a locked room above his head…

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

“So, you ready?”

 

Jensen looked over, his trailer door slammed open as Jared pranced in. Yes, he _pranced_ in, his excitement making his half bound half dance all afternoon. “Am I ready?” Jensen asked. Jared’s jaw dropped, actually dropped before he realized Jensen was teasing. “Yeah, I just want to grab a quick shower and then we’re good. Meet you at your car in a few?”

 

“Okay,” Jared said, his face falling into a huge way over done pout. “But don’t take too long.”

 

Jensen shook his head and rolled his eyes a little as Jared bounced out. 

 

It was after the door closed again, that Jensen rolled his neck and let himself start thinking about tonight.

 

Shower. 

 

Change.

 

Go.

 

In that order preferably. 

 

He sighed heavily and then hurried to the small shower in his trailer. Every time he took a shower he was surprised that he managed to fit in it- Jared had to get a bigger shower, something that amused Jensen to no end.

 

He hurried out of his clothes and started his ritual. 

 

Jensen sat down in the small tub, knees practically up his nose. The water that was pelting him was cold, painfully so; just like it always was.

 

He sat there, waiting until the water didn’t feel like it was shredding into his skin anymore and then stood up and turned the cold water all the way off and the hot water all the way on. Now it was a race against the clock. At first, the boiling water felt good against his frozen flesh but then it began to burn, seeming to scald him. 

 

He turned the bar of soap over and over in his hands and then used the abundance of lather to wash himself. Using the combination shampoo conditioner that he loved to have on set, he washed and rinsed his hair while he washed his face. As soon as all the bubbles were clear from the drain, he turned off the water and hurried into his change of clothes.

 

When he opened the bathroom door, the steam was so heavy it seemed to almost push him from the small room.

 

He stopped, hand locked on the door handle.

 

He didn’t want to go, there was no way that this was going to turn into a pleasant evening for him. He could already fell the fear and darkness choking him.

 

He wanted to go home, he wanted to lock himself in his special place, he wanted to pick up that box cutter and slice through his flesh. He wanted to feel the nausea sweep over him as he realized what he’d just done, just like it always did. He wanted to feel that slim metal blade in his sweaty palm, wanted to see the glint of it as he pushed it under the door, out of reach. He wanted to feel the press of the box in his back, wanted to feel the burn as he scrapped his knuckles when he tried to get the blade back…

 

_Thump! Thump! Thump!_

 

Jensen pulled the door open, surprised the hell out of Jared who had been raising his hand to pound once more.

 

“Hey, ready?”

 

“Sure,” Jensen said, smiling as inwardly he locked the darkness up in his mind.

 

“Okay, cool; you want me to drive, or do you want to?” Jared asked, still half bouncing as they walked to the lot. “Since it’s your car, I think you probably should.” Jensen said, smoothly moving out of Jared’s reach and putting his hand on the handle.

 

“Oh… Okay.” Jared half pouted. 

 

“If you want me to drive, so then I’ll be the designated driver? Toss the keys then.”

 

“Really?” Jared beamed.

 

“Sure,” Jensen said, laughing a little, pretending he didn’t hear the voice in his head that was telling him that if he couldn’t drink he was going to freak the fuck out tonight. Because Jared beaming like that? That was what made all this bullshit worth it.

 

Jared tossed the keys across the hood, and Jensen caught them deftly, waiting until Jared started to cross in front of the car before choosing his own path and crossing behind it.

 

He slid into the seat and clicked his seat belt into place before unlocking Jared’s door and starting the car.

 

“Okay, so where’s this shindig at?” Jensen asked as he carefully checked his blind-spot before pulling out of the parking space.

 

“Some place called O’Henry’s. I don’t know, I asked someone to txt me the directions…” He laughed and held up his phone when it seemed to vibrate on cue.

 

“Head up this way…” Jensen half tuned him out as the small voice in his head seemed to drown out his normal human person rational. 

 

_You know whose ring tone that was… You know who’s texting him… You know HE’ll be there… You know… You know… YOU KNOW!!!_

 

Jensen pulled into the bar, shooting the childishly happy Jared a smile and then getting out of the car. 

 

It was getting harder to ignore the voice in his head, harder to pretend that it wasn’t logical.

 

After the shit that had happened had happened… That whisper in his head had become a constant shout, but back then it wasn’t logical; it didn’t make any sense… But now… 

 

That voice seemed to get smarted and more malicious everyday. It was going to take over his life.

 

Jensen slammed the door behind him, ignoring what he chose to believe was irrational fear pulled up by that stupid voice. 

 

Because there was no way that Jared wouldn’t tell him that HE was coming was there?

 

Then again, the stupid voice whispered, Jared doesn’t know what you did, Jared doesn’t know that he should tell you if-

 

“Jen? You okay?” Jared asked, already across the bar’s tiny parking lot.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen said, flashing a winning smile as the voice shut up. “I’m good.”


	3. Chapter Two

  
Author's notes: Most people will think this chapter is especially dark... Consider yourself warned.

* * *

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Haphephobia

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

DEDICATION: To S. S. A man that will probably never read this, but as my favorite (English) teacher, and one whom I still talk to even though I graduated ‘07. He always supported my hopes/dreams/need to become an author. So, here’s to you. Hope you’re still writing and inspiring your pupils as I am sure that you are.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Chapter Two

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

He was there, why was he there? Oh, I know why he was there.

 

He was there because he just can’t leave me alone, he isn’t done, isn’t happy with the level of damage that he has already caused.

 

But that’s not true is it? 

 

No, he doesn’t even know that he kills me with every breath that he takes. Every time that I see him, hell hear his name- even if it isn’t in relation to _HIM_ I get nauseous, I want to duck for cover.

 

And of all the things that Mr. Padalecki deigns to notice… Why hadn’t he noticed the way that _HE_ scares me?

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Jensen was in his secret place. 

 

He could feel the panic that he’d locked away all night choking him, rising up in his throat…

 

He grunted a little, an effort to keep the tears at bay. 

 

Once you breakdown, you know what another breakdown can cost you and you tend to fight it off with all that you have.

 

Jensen was naked in his secret place, the only light coming in from under the door. It was time, he thought, trying to keep the glee from his mental process, but it was just one more battle that he was losing.

 

Jensen reached up, carefully feeling on the shelf until he felt the sting. He couldn’t help the twisted grin that lit his face as he felt the flesh on his finger pull apart minutely.

 

He curled his hand around the slim box cutter.

 

Never too deep or too long. That was the rule. That was what insured he’d never be caught. 

 

He ran the blade lightly over the thin flesh of his hip, loving the spike of pain. 

 

He looked down, bemused.

 

With the light that was creeping in under the door, Jensen could see the bubbles of blood as they sprang up along the paper thin cut.

 

Blood red.

 

There had to be another word to describe the color of blood. 

 

Perhaps scarlet? No scarlet was too orange. 

 

Brick red then? No, that was more the shade that blood was when it was drying. 

 

What of maroon? It looked very maroon in this light, but blood was normally so much brighter- intoxicatingly so. 

 

Was it crimson that ran through his veins? He swiped the blade across his other hip. No, crimson was too pink for it to be correct.

 

Perhaps a nice Venetian red? But that didn’t seem quite right either. 

 

Maybe blood red really was the only way to describe that delightful shade of red.

 

Jensen could feel his hand start to shake. This is when he got worried. He was enjoying this too much.

 

He wanted to cut clean flesh. 

 

He wanted to watch the blood streak across his thigh. He wanted to see it rip free and down his arms, he wanted to slice the back of his hands, the palm of his hand would look so much better if it had a gaping wound across it, wouldn’t it?

 

Jensen squeezed the blade tightly in his hand, feeling his knuckled whitening and swiped quickly downward. 

 

He’d never cut his ankle before. It was new, it was painful and oh, how it bled. He shoved the blade under the door, knowing it would be just a few seconds before he wanted that blade back

 

Even before that thought finished he wanted that box cutter back.

 

But it wasn’t really a box cutter anymore, it was a Jensen cutter now, and he wanted it back.

 

He shoved his hand under the door, knowing that there was no way that he could reach the blade, be keeping at it until he felt the flesh pull off the back of his hand.

 

Only then did he slump onto himself, the rush finally fading, and it was only then that he allowed himself to pick the keys up off the ground and unlock all six deadbolts.

 

He blinked in the harsh light of his bedroom and picked up the Jensen cutter from the floor, shutting it back on the shelf in his tiny closet before locking the door again behind him.

 

He leaned against it, feeling the sweat that made his back stick to the wooden door run down his chest and into the two delicate crosses on either hip. Eventually, he knew, he would have to stop cutting there, already the skin was shiny, scars marring his hips, but until he found a new safe place… It would have to do.

 

He walked slowly to the bathroom, and slid into the bathtub, ignoring the chatter of his teeth, ignoring the burn of ice as it settled around him. He glanced at the alarm. He’d taken far too long in his safe place today, he wouldn’t have long in the bath at all.

 

Jensen sighed to himself, and let his eyes close as his teeth clicked with each violent chill that ran down his spine.

 

All too soon it was time for the alarm to go off, and Jensen stepped out of the tub, let the water out and walked over to his shower. When he stepped beneath it, he wasted no time in cleaning his body with the bar of soap, the water so hot his flesh was almost scalding when he rubbed that hand sanitizer into his cuts. 

 

It was a ritual. The hand sanitizer just burned so good. He didn’t bother with band-aids though, after all how was it any fun if with each step he took tomorrow he couldn’t feel the denim scratch harshly against his wounds?


	4. Chapter Three

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Haphephobia

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

DEDICATION: To S. S. A man that will probably never read this, but as my favorite (English) teacher, and one whom I still talk to even though I graduated ‘07. He always supported my hopes/dreams/need to become an author. So, here’s to you. Hope you’re still writing and inspiring your pupils as I am sure that you are.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Chapter Three

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Burning.

 

That’s all Jensen can feel. The burn of stubble as **HE** licks down the center line of Jensen’s abdomen. 

 

Every thing in him wants to run away- everything except for the part of him that is loving having **HIS** strong hand pressing his wrists into the bed as he licks the sweat off of his body.

 

Jensen can’t feel the alcohol in his blood stream, the very reason he is in this place to begin with. Years of hidden desire for the stronger sex released with just the right amount of beer and promise of a more than able lover.

 

And more than able **HE** was. **HIS** lips and teeth playing over every inch of Jensen’s bare chest. He hated the fact that he was loving this.

 

Even as he could feel the bile rising in his throat, he felt his back arching in pleasure as **HE** mouthed him through his jeans. Even as he could hear his parents, his _preacher_ telling him how wrong it was, he could hear himself begging for more. He _needed_ more.

 

And more he was allowed to receive.

 

As soon as the plea entered his mind and came out of him in the form of a moan- **HE** released Jensen’s hands so that he could undo Jensen’s jeans, and devour his rock hard cock.

 

That man’s mouth should be illegal. **HE** sucked Jensen’s flesh all the way down, and with a loud pop, slid back off, blowing on the moist flesh. Jensen couldn’t stop the shivers from cascading down his frame.

 

It all felt so damn wrong, but so damn right. He keened as **HIS** tongue, the very tongue that had danced over his cock only moments before was pushing inside him.

 

Jensen could feel his back lift off the bed as he let out a breathless scream. 

 

So good. It felt so good to have someone stroking him from the inside.

 

As soon as he slammed back down on the bed, the tongue was gone, and he felt empty.

 

Only to feel his entire body split into as the most incredible feeling of pain and pleasure slammed into him as he was split in two.

 

**HIS** cock was inside of him, harder and deeper than any place any one had ever touched him, fucking ever.

 

He wasn’t going to last, and neither was **HE**. With a strangled yelp, Jensen felt all of the pleasure that was building up inside of him spill onto his belly as **HE** filled his insides with the hot liquid proof of this night.

 

Jensen could feel the tears and bile rising within him.

 

He slipped off the bed, and pulled the jeans that were hanging from one calf up and onto his other leg.

 

“ **Jensen**?“ **HE** asked. But Jensen was already gone…

 

Jensen woke up from the combination of his cold sweat and his silent scream.

 

Silky rust colored sheets were tangled around his legs and hips. He clawed at them desperately as he felt to the floor, scuttling back away from the bed.

 

So long, it had been so long since he’d had that night mare.

 

He looked down, his hot cum staining his boxer briefs and wanted to scream.

 

Everything about it was so wrong, but he wanted it to feel so right. And every time the desire for **HIM** woke him in the dead of night he wanted to peel his skin off and bleach every inch of him. He just wanted to feel clean again.

 

And the part that made him hate it the most was that he didn’t even like **HIM**. Even on that night, all he’d wanted was something no woman could give him. **HE** just happened to be there, and very willing to fuck Jensen.

 

And fuck him over apparently.

 

Shit, he should have known that this would happen, should have known the second he thought about **HIM** that he would wake up like this, scared and wanting…

 

He tried to keep the tears at bay but it was a losing battle. He knew that there was only one thing to do. Knew without thinking what the only thing he could do was.

 

Jensen stood, and before he’d even realized what he’d done, he could feel the Jensen cutter in his hand, and see the blood on the blade.

 

He slowly turned his head, almost in awe of the action. 

 

There was no pain accompanied with this particular cut, but he knew that there should have been.

 

He slowly raised his left hand, blinking dumbly at the blood as it dripped from the razor thin cut on his wrist.

 

Luckily, he supposed, the cut wasn’t deep. It was a bleeder though.

 

He watched one thin line of deep red as it crept down towards his elbow.

 

“Fuck,” he uttered, the reality of the situation kicking in now that his panic attack had been bled out.

 

He hurried towards the bathroom and shoved his hand under the faucet in the sink, the water turning an odd pink as it swirled down the drain.

 

He held it there despite the sting, and as he stared at it, it seemed to clear his vision even more.

 

He left his left arm hanging over the sink as he, in a detached trance, took out a roll of gauze. 

 

He squirted a healthy amount of disinfecting ointment onto the still bleeding slash, and tightly wrapped the thin gauze over it. 

 

Over and over he wound the gauze until it was white, no hint of blood leaking through.

 

How was he going to explain this?

 

He looked in the mirror, and while this wasn't unusual, he couldn't see his face...

 

He could see the fear there.  



	5. Chapter Four

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Haphephobia

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

DEDICATION: To S. S. A man that will probably never read this, but as my favorite (English) teacher, and one whom I still talk to even though I graduated ‘07. He always supported my hopes/dreams/need to become an author. So, here’s to you. Hope you’re still writing and inspiring your pupils as I am sure that you are.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Chapter Four

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Jensen spent the entire shooting schedule with the voice in his head completely silent. It was addictive, the delicious silence. Or, it was at first anyway. 

 

Because, at first, he could sneak little brushes against the sides of his wrist. Above and below the wide watch band… The thin gauze was hidden by the band, and the pressure against it the whole time… It felt amazing.

 

Addictive in its pain… But soon the pressure wasn’t enough. Soon he had to stroke above and below the watch band. And then across the watch band. And harder and harder across it.

 

Finally Kim yelled cut, break for lunch, and he slammed his wrist against the steering wheel. 

 

He grunted in pleasure, the sound covered by the creaking of the door Jared opened.

 

He hissed as the pain spider webbed up his arm, and then stood, jeans biting the cuts on his hips.

 

He strolled to the mess tent, not particularly hungry, he snagged a can of pop and opened it. He let loose a little burp and Jared cracked up, “So delicate, Jen,” he teased.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen said, and then froze at the look on Jared’s face. “Jay? You okay?”

 

Jared dropped the over-laden paper plate, food spilling everywhere. He stepped in it and then carefully grabbed Jensen’s hand.

 

It all happened in slow motion.

 

Jensen looked down at his left hand as Jared lifted it. There was a stripe of red, the steady flow of blood from wrist to where it had dripped off his middle finger.

 

“Huh,” He muttered, and then the blood loss caught up to him as the ground leapt up from under his feet to smack him in the face.


	6. Chapter Five

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Haphephobia

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

DEDICATION: To S. S. A man that will probably never read this, but as my favorite (English) teacher, and one whom I still talk to even though I graduated ‘07. He always supported my hopes/dreams/need to become an author. So, here’s to you. Hope you’re still writing and inspiring your pupils as I am sure that you are.

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

Chapter Five

 

=-_-=-_-=-_-=

 

There’s something extremely terrifying about waking up screaming. 

 

About finding that though you hadn’t heard or felt it before, your throat is so raw that you can almost feel it bleeding down into your lungs from the tearing of the tender tissue there, the sound so tortured that you could swear that someone nearby was being murdered- Slowly and painfully. And a whole new level of horrifying when you realize that the sound is coming from you. 

 

And then Jared’s hands were upon him. Jensen squirmed, aching to be away from the giant hands attached to the strong arms and huge frame that could easily hold him down. He screamed again, realizing that Jared’s hands were there to comfort him, but the tight leather bands across each arm and around each leg, certainly were there to keep him there. 

 

He arched his back, unaware of the circulation being cut of from each appendage as his muscles budged, straining to break that which couldn’t be broken.

 

“Jen, Jen, God, come on, Jen,” Jared yelled in a rush. “Come back to me, Jen! Jensen! Please, god, snap out of it!”

 

Jared.

 

He knew Jared. Liked Jared. Liked Jared more than he should, liked talking to him, laughing with him, looking at him, touching him, hugging him… Liked all of those things far more than he should. 

 

He screamed again, praying that the voice in his head would come back. That psychotic voice that pushed his every button, that insanity that proved he was alive, that he was real.

 

“Jen!” Jared screamed just as loudly, begging, pleading for something.

 

Jensen fell limp. He closed his eyes and held his breath.

 

Slowly, he ushered everything into the closet in his mind, forced it to lock, forced the darkness to become a mere shadow, letting him view everything through a haze instead of just seeing black.

 

Slowly, he forced his act to come into view, forced himself to review the tentative script- The lines that his carefully composed character might say in any given situation.

 

He opened his eyes, feeling them focus, forced them to land on Jared. Jared, tall beautiful Jared that was there beside him, fear masking his eyes, eyes that were softened only by the tears that were threatening to pour down his cheeks at any moment.

 

“Jay?” Jensen croaked, easily hiding the rippling pain that was caused by the whisper.

 

“Jensen?” Jared whispered, and there was the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes now.

 

Jensen smiled and Jared’s eyes gained back a little more of their spark. 

 

Jensen swallowed back another scream, braced that door shut even tighter as it threatened to open. He’d done that- Caused that spark to die, caused that light to vanish from Jared’s eyes. Something, he was sure no one would have ever thought was possible. 

 

Jared Tristan Padalecki was a puppy. A giant alien puppy that was an eternal optimist… At least that was what Jensen had always thought…

 

Before he’d murdered the inner child that was Jared’s overwhelming personality. 

 

Jensen cocked his head to side and blinked, once, slowly. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jensen heard himself mutter, and then he turned his gaze to the tile ceiling above him.

 

“Jen-” Jared started, and Jensen could half see Jared’s mouth moving out of his peripheral vision, but all he could hear was a low humming, blocking all other sound out and numbing his brain.

 

Because Jensen wasn’t available, please leave a message after the beep and he’ll return your call just as soon as he can bear being human again.


End file.
